


Ivory

by Stephquiem



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Canon, Drabble, Gen, Loss, POV Second Person, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 15:04:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stephquiem/pseuds/Stephquiem
Summary: You spend a long time living in her shadow. It's hard to know how to reconcile the sister you lost with the tragic war hero.





	Ivory

**Author's Note:**

> I was looking through short drabble-y type fanfics that I wrote a couple years ago, and I found this.

If there's one thing you've learned about the grieving process, it's that it really is exactly what the phrase implies--there's not just one thing for you to get through and then you're fine. It's a series of little hurdles. Little stabs of pain when you find one of her shirts mixed in with yours. Little triumphs when you hear her name and don't desperately look for her in a crowd.   
  
You spend weeks,  _months_ , listening to your mother cry in her room when she thinks you and Sara can't hear her. You bury your face in your pillow and try to sleep. If you can just fall asleep, maybe you can pretend for a few hours that your family isn't irrevocably broken.  
  
But life goes on. Eventually, so do you.  
  
After high school, you catch the first plane out of there that you can afford. When people ask, you tell them that you want to be closer to your dad, though you're still several hours away from him by car.  
  
Time passes and though you never  _forget_ , with time remembering doesn't hurt so  _much._.  
  
You're out of college when it happens. You've just started your first real job, and for the first time since you left home you have a little extra money. Not a lot, but enough that one day you find yourself wandering through and art fair, sometimes lingering over a few pieces that catch your fancy, but not buying anything.  
  
And then you see it.  
  
There was this booth, where a couple was selling small stones carved into animal shapes. You didn't mean to stop, you were on your way to the next place, but something caught your eye and you turned to look and there was this elephant, just sitting there, like it's been waiting for you all this time.  
  
You pick it up. You turn it over and over in your hands. And all you can think of is that time Dad took you and your sisters and you think Cassie to the circus, how one of the elephants went nuts on one of the trainers. You remember the incident that nearly destroyed part of your house, when you came into the kitchen to find your sister and the remains of her bedroom had crashed through the ceiling. A thousand little moments, things you barely noticed but are now suddenly dancing through your mind. You get it. You get it now. You don't know what took you so long. You don't know why it took so long to realize the connection between the bizarre things that seemed to happen all around you as a kid and what you now know your sister was doing during that time. But  _you get it now._  
  
You're possessed by the sudden need to tell someone, to talk to someone who will understand. But the only person left to you is thousands of miles away. You could call her. You could call her and ask her questions and you think she'd probably answer them.   
  
You don't call, though. Instead, you ask the woman at the booth how much the elephant is, and then you pay her and you take it home and you place it on a shelf in your living room. You don't look at it much. Some days the most attention you pay to it is when you have to move it to dust or to get a book. But the important thing is that it's there. You know it's there, and even though it's stupid, there's something comforting in that.


End file.
